Beldam
Legacy Name: Beldam

The blanket of darkness of the starless sky heaved its weight upon the small, uninviting town. There was something amiss... Something not quite right. I could not put my finger on it.
Of course, then again, I stood at the bank of the winding path leading up to a decrepit, skeleton of a house. The iron wrought fence reached to the sky like a gnashing sneer, and I thought again, what the hell have I gotten myself into this time? A bite of November wind ripped through my jacket, and I rolled my shoulders back as a shiver shot up my spine. The air was diseased.
I began my trek up the path, each step feeling more uphill and labored until I reached out to touch the metal of the iron railing. The metal felt icy and electric. I gave it a good shake and stood back, as if something were to jump out at me at any moment.
There was a moment of silence, where I could hear the bone rattles of the naked tree branches clanging together before the hideous shriek of the fence sounded like an air raid siren, slicing the quiet late autumn breath.


Up close, the house was an emaciated shell of what could maybe have been a home at one point; a collection of rusting nails and bloated, waterlogged wood that seemed as if one simply breathed too loudly, it would all crumble.
The door knocker was a rusting, coppery handle, hanging sideways on the door. I took it in my hand and paused, wondering if I should turn and go.
Knock knock...
I stood back once more, pulling the sleeves of my jacket over my palms that were clammy and pricking with perspiration.
The door creaked and groaned, then opening just wide enough for me to slip through.
I squinted against the darkness of the house. The wallpaper hung in sad, malformed scraps, the wooden floor creaked and groaned under my weight, and the staircase to the east that wound up in impossibly difficult maneuvers seemed to shift back and forth as the wind cut through the porous, papery walls.



"Hello."
I jumped and whirled around. I forced myself to relax and gave a nod. "Hello to you."
The woman stood at an angle, bowed at the waist from years of walking under the weight of her ghosts, hobbling towards me on a rickety cane, her silvery hair bristling as the breeze rattled the shutters.
"You're the medium."
It was a statement, not a question. Her voice was pale and croaking, and her smile never met her dark eyes.
"I am," I gave another affirmative nod. "I'm here to help you."
"I'll show you the parlor. Follow me please."
The parlor was a cubic haunt of a room, lit only by two candles: their wax dripping onto the poorly buffed wood of the rounded table in the center of the room.
I scanned around and felt a wave of cool, watery relief stretch out from my spine into my limbs.
We sat at the table, her at the head, me at the back, and she took my hand. Her skin was billowy and cool to the touch.
I closed my eyes, and let the water submerge me into darkness...



The warm air from the fireplace hugged my skin. The room was soft and orange, with strings of small colorful lights hanging in pillowy dips across the ledges of the walls. Soft piano music danced through the room, originating from somewhere I could not place.
"Who are you?"
I looked over. A thin framed gent curled in the armchair in the corner of the room looked up at me. His face was rounded in adolescence with a hint of maturity whispering at his cheekbones.
"Your mother sent me," I replied.
"What for?"
I looked out the window to see the blankets of snow hugging the hills surrounding the landscape. A deep sorrow passed into my knees, weakening my stature.
There was a hint of amusement in his voice. "I know what happened. You can say it."
I turned my gaze back to him.
"I'm so sorry," I managed.
He shrugged and settled further in the armchair. "It was the smoke that did it, not the fire itself. I don't remember being in pain."
I nodded. "Fair enough."
"What does my mother want from me?"
I cleared the knot in my throat. "She just wanted to know if you are okay now."
"I am okay now." He tilted his head to the side. "Anything else?"
"And your father?"
The boy stiffened, then relaxed. "I have not seen him. I'm sorry."
I shifted in place as the piano music seemed to be less inviting as time grew forth. "Were you afraid?"
His eyes flickered. His smile faded. "Did my mother ask?"
"Sure."
"Then no."
"And if I am asking?"
He shook his head slightly. "I was... I was afraid. Yes."
"Okay."
It grew quiet between us for a long moment. I studied the lad's bone structure, the way his elbows boomeranged outward, his shoulders poking through the cotton of his collared shirt.
"You look like her. Your mother, I mean."
"I used to get that a lot."
There sat a loneliness, hard as rock and cold as ice in the base of my chest.
"Don't be sad, please." He dipped his head lower. "It doesn't hurt here. I like it here."
"Your mother misses you."
He gave a smile so sad I could not believe it was still a smile. "I know."
The floor began to tremble under me. I looked wildy around and the boy rose to his feet.
"You have to go now," he said. "Tell my mother I'll see her soon."
I could barely muster a word before a heat overtook me, and everything went dark once again.



I opened my eyes and greeted the beldam's gaze. The room was dark and cold again. The loneliness never left.
"Did you see him?" Her dark eyes were light for the first time. There was a cruel spark of hope in her.
I took her bony, brittle hands in my own. "I saw him."
Her shoulders sank. "Did he say anything?"
I offered a smile, small, barely a whisper. "He was not in pain. He was not afraid. He is okay now."
The woman collapsed in a heap in her chair.
He was not afraid.
That was all she needed to know.
She could finally know peace.